Dreams of Fire
by Blackfire 18
Summary: Azula becomes terminally ill as a child after bending lightning for the first time. Zuko is terrified on his sister's behalf as she has innumerable hallucinations. She inadvertently sets her bed on fire, while she's still sleeping in it.
1. Chapter 1

**Dreams of Fire**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender or any of the characters there within, they are property of Mike and Bryan.**

Arcs of crackling and snapping light made the hair on the nape of the princess' neck stand on end. The bright, white streaks of magnificent, unfathomable energy flashed and reflected brightly in her eyes, making the golden irises flash an effervescent blue-white and back again. The power was gathering in her joints, pooling in her fingers and toes before charging with sizzling heat through her entire being. It was building. Her breath was coming in short, sharp gasps for her unbelievable triumph—she was going to be on par with her father—and she was only nine years old! She would be just like the great masters, able to produce _lightning_.

Still the rippling sensation of heat built, rising within to nearly drown her like a dam loosing a flood of untapped potential. The great smile she wore was purely genuine.

Just as she felt the power begin to peak, she suddenly realized she could contain it no longer, and she began to panic. How did one go about unleashing lightning? An image of her father flashed briefly through her mind and she copied the stance she saw, dual fingers on two outreaching arms, pointing in either direction, aiming one arm down the hall and the other the opposite. She might not have known it, but her stance was flawless, only she had forgotten to perform one critical action, a motion she could not have learned because she had no teacher present, she was attempting the ability on her own.

She had not swept the power away from her heart.

The fallacy was fatal.

Lightning exploded from her fingertips with pain hot on its heels. Azula felt as though she were being stabbed by hundreds of white-hot knives all over her body and she screamed; a deafening sound that echoed all through the palace. A tortured cry of pure, bitter agony. She felt the innumerable Jules of energy rip directly through her ribs, her lungs, her heart, shocking it into remaining perfectly still. A sword had been plunged through her skull, cutting it into two even halves, and her thundering head was suddenly impossible to hold up.

The edges of her vision flashed black, receded, then returned with force as she fell backward.

The last thing she had seen was the crackling light snapping and popping as it twisted high above her, laughing with glee down at her and her failure.

She had failed.

Azula fainted.

* * *

Zuko grumbled as he walked down the hallway that adjoined his chambers to his sisters; he was missing his knife. He had searched everywhere for it, through his drawers, under the bed, all across the floor, but it was nowhere to be found. Immediately his thoughts turned with blame to his sister, who had stolen things from him before, gleeful to have made him so upset. The entire affair had become a game to her: Hide Zuko's prized possession, laugh when he accusingly went after her, and then give him roundabout answers to his demands of "Where is it, Azula?" Of course, she always played innocent until Zuko refused to play the game and she grew bored. She would reveal the location of the latest of his missing possessions in detail and leave him to find it. Even then she sometimes lied to punish him for not entertaining her. Zuko ground his teeth and grumbled a little more loudly as he pushed open the door to her room. 

"Azula, where's my—" but he stopped short when he saw his sister lying unmoving on the ground. "Azula?" he spoke with a light tremor in his voice, was this some new trick? When she didn't respond, Zuko came forward until he stood beside her, more terrified for her quiet than he ever had been for her cruel smile and taunting words. He nudged her with his toe and flinched back. "Azula?" he repeated, and then asked outright. "Is this some kind of game?" Still his sister did not move. He knelt down beside her, smelling something faintly burned, tasting a singed bitterness on his tongue, and shook her shoulder. "Hey, this isn't funny. What's wrong?"

Silence.

He shook her a little harder and his eyes shot open when a bead of blood slipped from the corner of her lips. Zuko jumped and staggered back as a matching tear of blood trickled down her face to stain the tile.

The prince cried out in abject terror and ran from the room, screaming for servants, soldiers, anyone who could tell him what had happened to his sister.

* * *

All came to his call, including doctors, nurses, and handmaidens. The single, perhaps most important personage that did not attend the princess was their mother. Princess Ursa had long since disappeared in the uproar that surrounded their grandfather's death. Zuko worried all the more for his sister, who knew better to heal, to kiss wounds and caress bruises away than a mother? He sorely missed her all the more now from the beaten state of his sister. Would the doctors know what to do? His father?

Soldiers lifted the slumping princess and gently set her in her bed, doctors clustered around her to read her life signs, a runner was sent to inform the Firelord at once, while Zuko hovered in unadulterated horror for his sisters' fate behind the tall backs of adults. The adults were speaking all at once—what had happened? Who had done this? Talk of attempted assassination flitted from mouth to mouth across the room and soldiers were ordered to search the premises. What had the prince been doing? How had _he_ found out? But the true horror in his eyes stopped these accusations in their formulation. After all, he was still a child. The chaos continued as soldiers were commanded to search this wing and that tower, doctors rattled off numbers and demanded medicines, nurses fluttered about with hot, wet towels and fresh clothes. The cacophony of movement and noise grated on Zuko's senses as he was shoved further and further from his sister's bedside, pushed this way and that between towering bodies, when suddenly everything ceased. Zuko looked between a soldier and nurse that stood closest to him to peer through the doorway.

Firelord Ozai had arrived.

The tension was palpable as all in the room bowed respectfully and the Firelord swept among them, the crowd parting easily to let him pass. Had the heat in the open chamber doubled two-fold with his entrance? Zuko swallowed as he watched his father stride to Azula's bedside. The doctors informed him in hushed tones of what they suspected had happened. The prince strained his ears to hear them.

"Firelord, we believe the princess was attempting to bend…lightning—without supervision or a suitable teacher—it was a fatal misuse of technique." The doctor said the last of his sentence in a rush, fearing to invoke the wrath of the Firelord. "We've resuscitated her, but she has fallen to a high fever. We're not certain how severe the aftereffects have damaged her heart or her brain." Their ruler leveled a hard, cold gaze at the doctor that made the latter man swallow, before his eyes settled on his daughter. There was no sound in the room but the princess' labored breathing. He was silent so long that Zuko had grown terribly uncomfortable; how much trouble would Azula be in for trying something so dangerous it threatened her very life? Firelord Ozai seemed to consider his daughter for an eternity, but when he spoke his voice was surprisingly soft.

"See that she receives all the medical attention she requires. Make her as comfortable as possible, monitor her progress and report back to me every morning and night until her recovery. If my daughter dies," the Firelord turned to address everyone present, "so do all of you."

He strode purposefully from the room without a second glance back at the ailing princess and all watched him in a chilled stupor. A death sentence had just been issued on them all, hovering thick and choking in the muggy air. Their lives now depended on their princess'.

The chaos ensued once again as the tension increased double fold for the new motive to be productive in their efforts.

Unlike his father, Zuko stayed with his sister even when the traffic in the chamber thinned and most of the doctors and nurses left to rest for the night. There was not much else they could do that would aid their princess; Azula would have to heal herself while the rest rode out the fever. Many of the doctors waited just beyond the doors to collaborate amongst themselves and a few of the nurses were diligent in keeping the princess comfortable with freshly fluffed pillows and clean blankets, but all the rest retired. The silence in the wake of the horrid noise of the noon hours was deafening, but Zuko did not complain. He had finally been granted the chance to look upon his sister and see her health.

Many times he had wished illness on his sister for tormenting him so, but now that his wish had been fulfilled and his sister lay so still and prone on her bed, he regretted ever thinking such grim retribution.

One doctor remained, and when the prince looked up at him with quietly pleading eyes, the older man motioned that it was all right for him to approach the princess. Zuko clutched at the silken bed sheets when he saw her face, Azula was a sickly pale color, nearly as white as a sheet. In the course of the afternoon, her hair had been taken down and her clothing changed for sleeping robes, and though her forehead had been wiped clear of sweat, a fresh break clearly beaded her crown. He could see her trembling faintly beneath the layers of crimson satin blankets.

"Will she be all right?" Zuko asked, fearful to break the silence lest it shattered his sister for how fragile she had become, but more concerned to know her health than remain silent himself.

"Perhaps. In a few days time. We suspect she will have made some measure of recovery by then, but for now, she needs her rest and peace and quiet." The doctor said, scratching something or other on a mahogany tablet. "I would have a word with my colleagues on her condition, if it pleases your highness."

Zuko nodded, distracted as the doctor stood from his bow and made to leave.

"Wait," the prince called out. "May I have a towel before you go?"

The doctor retrieved a soft cloth from a hovering nurse at the doorway for the prince and exited the room. Zuko folded the cloth neatly and reached over to carefully dab at his sister's forehead. It was very hot, even through the towel. Azula's eyebrows scrunched together and a small whimper of pain escaped her lips, she clutched at her sheets with clawed hands; her body shook violently for an instant, hopeless beneath the sheets, before she fell still and deathly silent once again. Zuko's heart was racing; he had half a mind to call the doctor back to the chamber, but he did not dare leave his sister's side. Uncertain and frightened, Zuko reached out to touch her hand, to hold some part of her for reassurance, but he drew back sharply with a cry. Her hand had scalded him.

Zuko ran from the room a second time that day to call upon the doctors and report this new development. His sister was in dire trouble.

* * *

By the time the prince had led the flock of doctors down the hall and crowded around Azula's bed, the burning sensation that Zuko had felt from his sister had all but vanished; in its stead was an icy chill. Several of the practitioners had cast the prince a furtively absurd glance. Still, it was better to be reported than missed. 

"But she was real hot, I swear!" Zuko argued to little avail.

"We are all tired from the day, Prince Zuko, perhaps you should retire for the evening?"

But Zuko would not be so easily swayed, he demanded to stay, but he was tenderly ejected by a group of nurses who casually pushed him out the door and down the hall with taming words of reassurance. Zuko relented to this treatment and walked the rest of the way himself, waving the nurses away impatiently. How would he ever sleep knowing how ill his sister was?

* * *

**A/N: Is Zuko not the sweetest brother there is? And how crazy is Azula for attempting to bend lightning? She's only nine! Sure, I did my share of stunts on the uneven bars at that age, but Azula is trying to break some record with THAT stunt. My friends were all getting sick and the idea just popped in my head. I played around with it for awhile and this is what became of it. I figure Azula is a total over-achiever and it lands her in a spot of trouble. Just a snippet of the story really, it will probably end up being three chapters of about this length each. I just hope I hooked a few readers to join my fanciful story to its end.**

**A small hint for the next chapter: Zuko had the choice between the red and blue dragon, and he chose red--to aid the Avatar. He went through a horrible internal struggle to discover his goal. And now here, so does his sister.**

**It's going to be a fun story!**

**Please leave a review to tell me what you think!**

**Blackfire 18**


	2. Chapter 2

**Dreams of Fire**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last ****Airbender**** or any of the characters there within, they are property of Mike and Bryan.**

"Demon child."

Azula looked up.

Her mother stood there, her back to the young princess, stiff and rigid and unmoving. A towering figure made utterly unapproachable by gesture and word. Her voice was high, cold.

"Disease of my body. Filth of my flesh. You are no child of mine."

A hot wellspring of tears was welling up in the girl's eyes. Why did her mother hate her so?

"No!" Azula shouted, hating this injustice, hating herself for crying. "Look at what I can do. I'm so much better than him. Look at me!"

The princess let her hands fill with fire to perform impeccable motions of prodigal ability, but her mother did not turn to see. It was always the same—her mother never looked her way, never paid any attention.

"Look at me!" she cried, rubbing at her eyes with her fire-lit hands, burning her face. Burning her face like _Zuko_. Zuko always burned himself trying to mimic her abilities. She was precision. She was perfection. Why couldn't her mother see that?

Azula threw herself at her mother's robes, clutching them in desperate hands and setting them on fire. Slowly the fires climbed higher on her mother's royal dresses, past knees, elbows...She pulled hard at the heavy red robes, ignoring the agonizing pain of having the snapping fire eat at her and her mother's clothes.

"_Look at me!_" she screamed.

Ursa finally turned; the cloth tearing from Azula's clawed fingers. The woman towered high into the ceiling over the girl, her golden eyes lit from within with an awful vengeance; lips curled back for bare the teeth of a dragon. She rose a great scaled arm and Azula staggered back, shielding her face with one hand. The strike sent her sprawling and her vision to pop and flash. The fire she had set on her mother had exploded to an inferno, devouring hungrily at the crimson drapes surrounding them, the heat was unbearable. Azula lay very still, shocked to have been struck so by her own mother when the figure bent low over her. She raised her arms again to protect herself, but her mother snatched at her wrists tightly, scorching them with flames of her own.

"Demon child."

The woman smiled horridly down at her daughter before the face transformed—the high cheekbones became slightly less prominent, the set of the eyes parted and tilted down faintly, becoming almond shaped, the curve of the nose, the curl of the ears, even the hairstyle tied itself differently—into two bangs and a neat bun.

Azula gazed up in horror at herself.

The figure's golden eyes were blinding but Azula could not force herself to look away. The older Azula laughed softly, the grin never dissipating as she gripped harder at the young girl's wrists. Azula shrieked in pain as the heat increased ten fold around her.

"_Give in to me_."

It was her voice, hardly aged by the years, mixed in an ethereal harmony with another, mature voice of her.

"_The other will not take you._ _Give yourself to me, __sweet__ child_."

Azula struggled for her life, kicking and biting, her eyes tightly closed to the terror looming above her, but the voice only laughed at her pitiful struggles, coming ever closer to adjoin their souls in fire.

_Azula_

"You're the demon!" Azula shrieked in terrified panic, anything to stop this from happening, and the being laughed outright; the voice drastically changed into a very different dual tone. Her voice was still there, but in demented harmony with another that was deep and guttural. Even in her state of alarm, Azula imagined that the beast above her had the voice of a dragon, had dragons any voices to speak. She cracked one eye open to see that the face had changed again. It was still her in some form, but azure scales replaced smooth skin and rigid claws cut into her wrists and arms. A crown of horns tore into the air above the being.

_Azula_

"_Foolish child._" The dual voice laughed, belching noxious fumes into the princess' face."_If I am the demon, then so are you. I am you._"

The being closed the distance between them, and though Azula gave her most valiant of efforts to throw the creature off, it was too late.

_Azula_

"_We are the same, you and I. You cannot change who you are_."

_Who you are…_

Fire engulfed the girl's entire body and she screamed in pure agony.

* * *

"Azula!"

Zuko could not sleep that night knowing of his sister's predicament, so he had snuck back into her room and taken up a post to sleep fearfully at her bedside, only to be jostled back to terrified awareness when her entire bed jerked from the struggling princess' beneath the covers. His sister was putting up the fight of a wounded, cornered animal against invisible foes; her hands alight with fire. The prince sprang into action, snatching at his sister's hands to stop her from setting fire to her own bed. The instant his hands closed on her wrists, Azula screamed and fought harder.

"Azula!"

The princess' eyes snapped open, her golden eyes flashing with fanatical brilliance; saw looked right through Zuko as though he was not there. She fought him with fearsome strength, fire still snarling with angry life around her hands. They struggled against one another, Azula desperately trying to claw at his face while Zuko tried his hardest to keep her still, when Zuko realized this was not the way. Somehow he knew she was not truly fighting him, but what haunted her waking nightmares. Restraining his sister only fueled her rage, and despite his fears for them should something catch fire from the uncontrolled flames, he released instead to pull her into his embrace. Azula bucked fiercely as Zuko murmured soothing words into the ear closest his lips. His mother's words came to him almost at once.

"Azula, you're home—you're safe. We'll fight this together. I'm with you. Azula, remember who you are. Remember who you are."

The princess screamed and put all of her energy into throwing him off and then suddenly fell limp against her brother; the fire in her hands extinguished. Relief washed through Zuko. They had endured the trial together and, he hoped, they had been victorious. Azula was sweltering in his grasp but he did not dare let go, not until the entire ordeal was over. A raspy breath exhaled over his shoulder.

"Zz…Zu…ko?"

The prince did not get the chance to answer as a swarm of emergency medical assistance converged on them, alerted by the princess' scream. Zuko was ripped unceremoniously from his sister as doctors and nurses flocked around the princess like vultures squabbling over a piece of prime meat. The threat from his father must still have been fresh in their minds. Azula was soon entirely blocked from view as once again, Zuko was ushered to his chambers. Deflated, Zuko did not resist the nurses' persistent shepherding to his room. The prince sighed as the door closed the second time that night behind him. He was so certain had he been given more time to reassure his sister, she might have been that much closer on the road to recovery. But she had collapsed again the instant he was no longer there to stabilize her

He looked over dejectedly at his bed and, dragging his feet, hopped up and shuffled under the covers. He rested his head on the pillow, his eyes open.

Sleep was not forthcoming.

* * *

The next few days saw no change in the princess' condition and the palace was abuzz with the tensely anxious undercurrents of the deadly game being played should she not improve. Soon. Many of the servants were on edge as the stress surrounding the princess' state mounted to a peak.

On the third evening of Azula's bedridden condition, Zuko had made a promise to see how she fared for himself. Royal protocol got in the way of regularly visiting, but he was stubborn this evening, refusing to attend to any of his duties. His sister was more important. The rumors that circulated around the castle were never very accurate. Passing servants whispered feverishly of the princess and how she had lapsed into a coma, gone sleep-walking through the courtyards, grown horns on her head, and how her skin had turned purple with green spots. Zuko didn't believe a word of it. Not entirely anyway.

He cracked his door open ajar and took a deep breath. He was about to slip out the door when a figure swept by his chambers. It was none other than the Firelord himself. Stunned, the prince watched his father as he made his way towards Azula's bedroom, when he realized an opportunity was at hand.

Zuko sidestepped his door, ignoring with some irritation, the guards posted at his door and fell in step a respectful distance behind his father. Close enough to be left unquestioned by imposing guard and doctors, but far enough not to alert the Firelord to his tag-along presence.

The Firelord passed through Azula's doors with bows from all that lined her walls without and was greeted to a similar welcome from the doctors within. Zuko too entered without trouble, but he stopped just beyond the door to listen.

"Report."

"My lord," the two doctors before him bowed deeply and did not rise. "The princess' burn wounds are healing nicely and there should be no or very minimal scarring, but she still suffers a high fever that induces delusions and waking hysteria. We have attempted many methods to controlling her elevated temperatures but to no avail. Ah, we have reason to believe that this fever is a long-lasting aftereffect of the shock that is affecting her mentally. And if this pattern continues, there may be…potential brain damage."

The Firelord was silent and Zuko worried his thundering heart could be heard in the deafening quiet.

"How unfortunate."

Zuko swallowed hard. The undertones in his father's voice promised death.

"A child with a damaged mind is worthless. And those who cannot reconcile a simple fever are equally worthless. I recommend you place more effort in your work, as it's plain your vindicated treatments have been unsuccessful." He paused and the tension in the air was suffocating. "You have one more day before I take matters into my own hands."

The Firelord turned promptly on his heel and captured Zuko in his golden gaze. Suddenly singled out and quite alone in the grand expense of the room, Zuko fought the urge to freeze like a deer in that predatory glare. The prince made a hasty exit, nearly crashing into the many, many servants that had peered into the princess' bed chambers to witness their lord's administration of punishment for failure to recover the princess, and the lot of them scattered with Zuko for fear of the Firelord's wrath to separate areas of sanctuary.

For the time being.

They had one more day to resolve the princess illness.

Then Firelord Ozai would execute his own grand design of ruin.

* * *

Heat ravaged Azula when she slept and when she woke. There was no escape from the nightmares or suffocating warmth; she was tormented in her dreams by her mother, her father, the dragons, herself—and her waking hours were filled with nightmares of a different sort. Doctors hovered almost constantly over her; she couldn't breathe with them so close. They would prick and poke, pry and prod her sore, until she finally fell numb to the endless examinations. She had no voice to demand them cease and no power of body to struggle. Any movement increased the painful heat ten-fold.

Nothing she did seemed to ease her suffering.

Nothing except…

She could vaguely remember it. The first hallucination with her mother and herself as the blue dragon, when she had fallen from its constricting hold, she had come to the waking world in the arms of her brother. And she had felt…comforted. The scorching heat left in the wake of the dragon's fiery breath had dissipated—her brother a welcome cool to the heat she had suffered so long. Her voice had returned to her, rusty from un-use, she had whispered his name, but then the cool was taken away and replaced once again with the suffocating heat and she collapsed into a boiling darkness.

The waking world was unchanged, save for the doctors and their annoying assessments of her condition. The fury only fueled the searing heat and Azula shut herself to the darkness, wanting only to remain in this limbo beyond the pain of the doctor's pricking needles and the torture of her nightmares, but she inevitably fell once more into oblivion.

----------

"_Princess __Azula. __Daughter of Prince __Ozai__ and Princess __Ursa__ You have come at last._"

Azula looked up.

Before her was the elegant, flowing form of a majestic blue dragon. She recognized him instantly from the texts detailing the histories of previous Firelords and Avatars.

Great Grandfather Sozin's dragon.

He stared down at her with that long, arching neck, a powerful and regal figure that stood proudly over a slain red dragon. A long gash was ripped through the fallen dragon's throat and a pool of black liquid spilled across the floor. The creature was unquestionably dead.

"_I have seen your heart, Daughter of __Ozai__, and I know that you care not for the wellbeing of others, equality, or freedom. But in matters of power is where your true interest lies.__"_ The dragon stretched its neck until it was face to face with the princess. Its brilliant golden-orbed eyes shimmered with the power of the sun. Azula did not flinch away. The being was powerful, and though it withheld the potential, did not threaten her._"__You seek power. You risked your life attempting to control a power beyond even some __master's__ abilities. I. Have that power.__"_

The creature broke the gaze to turn partway back to the broken body of the fallen dragon.

"_You have destroyed that which stands in the way of your power._"

"I have?" Azula murmured, her small voice echoing throughout the vaulted chamber of the Firelord's throne room. It was empty of any ruler. The blue dragon turned back to her.

"_Doubtless you remember. In your dreams you envisioned a red and blue dragon wage battles.__ The red dragon was strong, resourceful, __merciful__. But the blue dragon was cunning, agile, and gifted with superior skill. You secretly wanted the greater skilled opponent to win, did you not?_"

The princess did not respond. She had no need to. This being seemed to read the very depths of her soul.

The dragon drew itself up to its full height.

"_I have won._" The dragon opened its jaws and flared its massive wings to stir Azula's hair and clothing. "_You have won._"

Just as quickly the dragon leapt, arching into the air as it lunged straight for the princess as a streak of blue. Azula had time only to take a single step back before it dove into her body. The princess screamed.

"_I am you._"

The blazing heat Azula had experienced the past days of her fever were nothing but chills compared to the searing fires that ate at her flesh now. The pain was unbearable.

"_My power is yours now that we are one_."

Azula could no longer tell if the screams that resounded around the chamber were hers as her throat was too tight to emit any sound—blazing as though she were exhaling fire.

"_Together we will finish our work for the Fire Nation_."

Blue flames were leaping up all around her, consuming her in their writhing, crackling blossoms.

"_The weaker nations will fall at our feet._"

Along with the azure flames rose a sizzle and flashing crack of blinding light as electricity built around her.

"_We are divine._"

Lightning struck.

"_I AM YOU._"

* * *

Zuko jumped at the sound. It was unmistakably his sister's cry that echoed to his chambers. His heart in his throat and his stomach misplaced in its lightness, Zuko threw back his covers, he had not truly slept anyway, as he ran for his sibling's chambers once more. The palace past him in a blur, but his flight was straight and true as he again burst into his sister's room. His breath left him the instant he stepped on the threshold.

The blast of heat would have deterred any creature desiring to live to the fullest of its life, but this was not what had shocked Zuko to planting himself firmly in place.

There, arching high in the yawning chamber was a great blue dragon composed all of azure flame. Its front claws grasped at the canopy bedposts that faced closest the door, causing the wood to crack and splinter under the intense heat. Its hind legs were sprung from Azula's open palms, fed by the energy it found there. The monster's tail lashed from side to side, sending fresh sparks and flames to nibble happily at the furnishings on the wall as the mighty head gazed down at the lesser mortals that gawked up at it.

There was no mistaking it—this was the Great Firelord Sozin's dragon.

The people in the room—doctors, soldiers, nurses all—could only stare horrified at the flaming apparition, never mind that the princess was actively being burned alive in her bed. Many had fallen to their knees to worship the dragon in its splendor; their honored ancestor had found a means to bring a message to his people. Zuko was awestruck at the sight as well, but this did not deter him from single thought rushing over and over through his mind. His sister needed him.

He sprinted from the doorway, past the useless adults, and leapt without a second thought onto Azula's bed which had, by then, become nothing more than a bed of yellow flame. The choking heat was crippling as the fire delighted in this new meal and ate happily at the prince's night clothes. Zuko did his best to ignore the heat and agonizing pain of the raging fire as he threw his arms around his sister and dragged her forcefully from the inferno. The blue dragon above whipped its head around to level a white-hot stare at the prince, and the apparition lunged down at him with open jaws. Zuko screamed as the massive fire descended on him, but he dared never to let go of his sister, he would sooner die. Azula tensed suddenly in his arms and a blast of suffocating heat rolled over them, but there was no pain. The dragon, having expended its energy on its intent for a fatal blow, diminished to little more than a dancing ribbon of yellow flame that exhausted itself in mid-air, and suddenly there was movement again.

The adults that had done little more than gape and worship had jumped to help the prince and princess. Zuko had managed to slip off the end of the bed, falling to the ground below with Azula landing atop him, motionless and hot as a branding iron. Zuko was slipping in and out of consciousness, even as Azula's weight was lifted from him. The uproar had gone silent again as people lifted Zuko to his feet. He teetered, but someone stabilized him so he would not fall and the prince looked up.

There before them all stood the Firelord, holding Azula in both his arms.

All was silent, no one spoke.

The Firelord had witnessed the whole thing.

So there was no need to affirm the massive deed and congratulate Zuko on his bravery for saving his sister and princess from certain death. There was no need to retell the appearance of the great blue dragon that had once belonged to Firelord Sozin. There was no reason to explain the princess bed was little more than a pile of ashes.

There was no need to justify the great prophecy that had taken place that day.

Azula, daughter to Firelord Ozai and Princess Ursa, had been chosen by her ancestors. The symbol was a fortuitous gesture of her born ability to rule and the raw power of sheer potential to be the greatest Firebending Master of them all.

The omen was not lost on Ozai.

All gazed up at the Firelord, awaiting punishment for the near fatality of their princess; their lives did not deserve to be spared for their negligence and inaction. But his daughter was sweltering in his arms, quiet, pale and lifeless, and he turned from the destroyed room. He would deal with them all later.

Zuko jerked from the one who held him steady, not demanding of anything but for the concern of his sister's health.

"Give her my bed!" he shouted, but his voice came out as a whisper. He was not sure his father had heard, but the silence in the room allowed his rasp to carry and his father stopped a split second before continuing down the hall.

Knowing he had been heard and Azula was taken care of, Zuko promptly collapsed.

* * *

**Author's Note: The long-awaited update! So, those who dislike Azula loved this chapter right? (Then again, since it's mostly about Azula, why read this story in the first place?) Wow, I really have a lot to say about this chapter and all the philisophical connotations therein, but my main points are probably that Zuko accepted Roku's ancestry, while Azula accepted Sozin's--at a very young age. Hence the dragon symbols littered through the chapter. That, and the flourish of Azula's potential begins here.**

**Firelord Ozai is scary, isn't he?**

**I have one more chapter to add to this and then it is done. A lovely little resolution. Hopefully I can update soon. So many Avatar stories, so little time!**

**Blackfire 18**


	3. Chapter 3

**Dreams of Fire**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender or any of the characters there within, they are property of Mike and Bryan.**

Zuko awoke in a bed that had been hastily made up for him the night before when he had collapsed, a bed and frame taken from somewhere and, to Zuko's surprise, matching sheets and quilts. The servants may have been rushed, but they certainly kept an eye for detail, no matter what the disaster. The boy pushed himself up onto his elbows and looked around him. This looked like the chamber that adjoined his room to Azula's. Apparently, the servants did not feel comfortable allowing the siblings to be kept too close together; Azula was still ill after all…wasn't she?

Zuko squinted in determination and sat up fully, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

He was going to find out.

* * *

_Awaken, Princess._

Azula opened her eyes.

The girl found herself lying curled on her side, her finest silken robes of red and gold hugging lovingly around her body. The silk was comfortably soft and…_cool_. Oh, the simple pleasure of coolness surrounding her, kissing her skin, was absolute bliss after suffering so much heat for so long. The sensation that had woken her faded and she felt herself slipping back into a peaceful sleep, when the soft call stirred her again.

_My darling, beautiful princess who knows no bounds. Rise._

Azula's eyes fluttered open again, and as though an unseen power lifted gently on her arms, she was helped to stand.

There, entwined at her feet, were thick, massive cables of scales, all sliding over one another with a graceful fluidity. It took her a moment to realize that it was not water that danced around her so magically, but instead the azure dragon that had haunted her fevered dreams. The voice spoke again, swollen with pride and affection.

_Courageous and gifted Princess, it is done. My power is yours._

Azula's gaze unfocused for a moment, calling back the memory of the dream she had experienced, of a dragon leaping out of the blue flames created by her hands. _Her_ hands! She raised her arms and examined her hands. Nothing seemed changed about them. She turned them over. Nothing new or different there either. Confusion was prickling in the back of the princess' mind. All she felt was a little tingly.

_Eyes see not the change. Feel it._

Heeding the dragon's words, Azula closed her eyes and concentrated. She did not have to search far to find the power. The sheer power overflowing from her being; the awesomeness of the potential she met with made her freeze, which quickly melted into excitement, neither of which—the power or her delight—she could keep under control.

_There. Summon it to you. You are its wielder, you are its master._

Barely a twitch of her muscle called her fire power forth, and to her sheer joy, the flames that erupted so easily into her palms were a brilliant blue. Azula couldn't breathe, she was so filled with pleasure. The rippling blue flames were the most beautiful she had ever seen. They were so fresh and new and they opened her eyes to the world again, her passion and confidence soared to higher, unimaginable peaks. Success would greet her at every turn. All would bow before her. She would be the best there ever was.

_Darling Princess._

The great blue dragon's head crested slowly over its own coils that curled so lovingly around the princess' feet; his crown of horns towering majestically above him and his gray beard knowledgably beneath. His golden gaze met Azula's, and she saw satisfaction in them. She saw her reflection in his large eyes, and it was in them she saw herself: Young but not inexperienced, fierce intelligence, aggressive ambition, a girl filled with drive and purpose. She saw herself in her eyes; herself in completion.

_You, who have endured the trials, are awarded the gift._

_Smite your enemies. Protect your ambitions._

The dragon opened his mouth wide.

_Awaken your potential._

Blue flames poured out from his mouth and engulfed the princess, but there was no threatening heat, no flames that desired to consume her flesh.

_Awaken._

There was only power.

And those too weak to use it.

_Awaken!_

* * *

Azula opened her eyes.

She stared uncomprehendingly at a dark red canopy draped over a four poster bed. She blinked, what was this strange new place? Where had the blue dragon taken her now? She pushed herself up onto her elbows, the floor beneath her cushioned her elbows, no, not a floor, a bed. Red covers spread over a large bed. Her eyes drew up and across the room. Room. She was back in her room? No, not her room. Something was wrong about it. Her thoughts were still clouded, when they began to formulate into clear paths of connection as recognition dawned on her.

Of course. She had tried to bend lightning. She had _succeeded_, but something had gone wrong. She had been racked with a fever for some time; doctors were there, her father…her brother.

Zuko had been there for her entire ordeal. Whenever she woke to the real world, barely able to make heads or tales from her heated stupor, she would see Zuko at the edge of her bed, her constant companion. A different kind of warmth washed over Azula. One she could not describe, something she did not fully understand. She pushed the confusing feelings away and shook her head to clear it.

Zuko's room. She was in Zuko's room. That's why it looked so unfamiliar. Why did he have his bed facing away from the door? Idiot. He rearranged his things in the worst possible way. A bed should face the door, like the palace doors faced the sun. Why wasn't she in her own room anyway?

Shock lanced through Azula.

That's right, she had burned her bed.

And now that she remembered why—

The princess kicked back the covers and shoved herself to the edge of the bed, with much more strength than she had exhibited since her illness had taken its relentless hold, and taking a stupendous leap (aided by the bedsprings) she sprang for the hallway that led out to the sibling's private courtyard. Too excited to care that she was still in her nightgown, Azula sprinted for the outdoors.

Once outside, she inhaled a deep, freeing breath or fresh air, all those days with doctors and their stinky herbal medicinal remedies could do horrors to a girl's sense of smell. Her returning strength doubled as she felt the warming and powerful rays of the sun on her face. Inhaling a more controlled breath to firebend, she pushed one arm out, focused, and drew an arc back to herself, then thrust out her palm. A jet of blue fire roared out in the direction she desired. She exhaled the rest of her controlled breath in a triumphant "_Ha!_" Sheer exhilaration fueling her, filling her entire being, Azula threw a fisted punch with her other hand to similar results.

She kicked. Blue flames erupted into a beautiful arc.

She roundhouse kicked. A longer arc of blue rose into the sky.

Punch.

Punch.

Kick.

Thrust.

Kick.

Sprial.

Punch.

Azula launched a fierce barrage of practiced maneuvers, one set lapsing right into the other, and each move releasing that pure ecstasy of azure flame that she did not dare stop. Beads of sweat were forming on her forehead, but she ignored her aching exhaustion, she had slept enough! She would perform every move she had ever trained for, every exercise she had learned with this new power. Twice over. No, a hundred times over! She would practice until she was as flawless and beautiful as her blue flames.

She imagined an enemy and beat him mercilessly down. Taking him out in an easy three strikes, she drew her hands and legs into a victory tiger pose, clawed hands at the ready should he foolishly choose to rise again.

"WOW!"

Azula jumped in surprise and spun sharply to face none other than her brother, Zuko. He was running to her from across the courtyard, his face pressed back into that dopey, lop-sided smile he wore when something truly impressed him.

"How did you DO that?" he panted as he reached her, perhaps as excited for her as she was. Azula grinned broadly at him, this was not her usual smile when she was about to play a cruel trick on him. Her smile was just that: A pure, genuine smile of pleasure. Another rarity that he hardly ever saw anymore. And somewhere…somewhere in that smile was thanks. She knew that he had been there in her hour of need. The appreciation was apparent in her features. But Zuko couldn't be bothered with that at the moment…

"They were blue!" he gushed in awe at her newfound ability, never mind where it had come from. "_Blue!_" he panted four or five times more before he suddenly realized that his sister was no longer looking at him, but instead over his shoulder.

Zuko turned back to see his father standing just beyond the shadows of the hallway he had just come from. He was smiling. The prince felt a surge of elation, for his father rarely smiled. They were both happy to see Azula feeling better, as a family should feel.

The Firelord strode towards them, and Zuko suddenly found himself unable to stop babbling.

"She's all better, Dad. Azula's better! And now her firebending is blue! It's blue, Dad! D'you think it had something to do with her fever? That doesn't make sense, does it? I'm just glad she's better, aren't you? It's blue, Dad! Did you see it? Did you—"

But the Firelord had already passed his son and opened his arms to his daughter.

Azula gazed up at him with fiercely proud eyes, and their smiles matched.

"My little prodigy."

Azula jumped into his arms, still in her nightgown, sheeted with sweat, but none of these things seemed to bother the Firelord. Zuko stood by; silenced by the embrace he had been outcast from. This triumph was Azula's, not his. She had conquered her illness and even managed to improve her firebending skills somewhere after the event. She reserved the right to her father's affection. No matter what he had sacrificed to protect his sister, staying up all those nights to watch over her when their father was absent, pulling her from burning beds. He could at least be satiated in the fact that his sister had her health back. He would never wish ill on her again.

"We shall have to have a banquet in your honor?" Prince Ozai said as he pulled away from his daughter.

"With all my favorites?" Azula asked suggestively. Their father laughed.

"Of course. We shall arrange it for this evening. Now, come and show your father this new ability of yours." The Firelord began to escort his daughter to the larger main courtyard when Azula unexpectedly ducked out from under his arm and ran back to Zuko, who had been left behind.

"Come on," she tugged on his arm, smiling. "You want to see too, don't you?"

Zuko smiled widely and clutched to his sister's hand as they raced for the main courtyard, neither of them had any desire to let go.

* * *

**Author's Note: This is one of those stories I wish I had finished before the finale, but I got tied up in appointments and work and whatnot. Bummer. At least I finally finished this story!**

**I really love it when these two fight, I guess I have an interest in sibling rivalry, but it it so cute when they get along, and that rare Ember Island episode really sparked a few stories for myself personally about their special, taut relationship. The brother and sister that got along when they were little. Zuko is just a darling, loving brother this whole story through, and I tried to give Azula that division, where she does care but she also devotes a lot of her caring to her abilities. I wanted to make that eventual change she makes in the storyline a subtle divide here. Hope I pulled it off.**

**Doesn't Ozai just pop up everywhere? I figure he deeply cares about Azula, his little child prodigy (deja vu), still ignores Zuko, and is a man of few words. The dismount--and stick!**

**I'm happy to have finally come back and finished this project, because Azula really grew to be one of my favorite characters--only to have her character (i.e personality) dashed in the finale. cries I'm bummed, but at the same time, not surprised. TT Well, this story is for the Azula who becomes Sozin's grandchild in ancestry; manipulative, conniving, and all around lovable!! **

**Anywho, I hope you all enjoyed the story and will drop me a review on what you thought of it!**

**Blackfire 18**


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